The glitch in the escape pod wasn't an emergency issue. It was one of those "get to it when you get to it" things, and with a station as understaffed as they currently were, it was also a "whoever can handle it, handle it" situation. The when ended up being after a shift in one of the language labs - the who, one Lieutenant Uhura. If it wasn't a serious engineering problem, she could handle it herself. At the very least, she could assess the problem and give someone more qualified a good head start.

This was how Uhura found herself sitting at the minimal and cramped controls, a protein bar hanging out of the corner of her mouth, the electrical guts exposed before her laid out in careful rows and columns. She'd disconnected the power to the unit from the panel in the ship's hallway, hung the proper warning signs, and immersed herself in the work.

So thoroughly immersed, in fact, that she didn't even hear the approaching footsteps. No, that wasn't quite right. She heard them, she just didn't pay them any mind. Not even when they paused near the pod's hatch. After all, you couldn't read a sign warning that delicate work was going on inside if you breezed right past it.